The Kellys and the O'Kellys eBook

“Isn’t the Kellys great people intirely,
Mr. Barry? and won’t it be a great thing for
Miss Anty, to be sib to a lord? Shure yer honour’d
not be refusing me this blessed day.”

“What the d——­ are you saying
about Miss Lynch?” said Barry, his attention
somewhat arrested by the mention of his sister’s
name.

“Isn’t she going to be married then, to
the dacentest fellow in Dunmore? Martin Kelly,
God bless him! Ah! there’ll be fine times
at Dunmore, then. He’s not the boy to rattle
a poor divil out of the kitchen into the cold winther
night! The Kellys was always the right sort for
the poor.”

Barry was frightened in earnest, now. It struck
him at once that Jack couldn’t have made the
story out of his own head; and the idea that there
was any truth in it, nearly knocked him off his horse.
He rode on, however, trying to appear to be regardless
of what had been said to him; and, as he trotted off,
he heard the fool’s parting salutation.

And, in truth, Jack had hit him hard. Of all
things that could happen to him, this would be about
the worst. He had often thought, with dread,
of his sister’s marrying, and of his thus being
forced to divide everything—­all his spoil,
with some confounded stranger. But for her to
marry a shopkeeper’s son, in the very village
in which he lived, was more than he could bear.
He could never hold up his head in the county again.
And then, he thought of his debts, and tried to calculate
whether he might get over to France without paying
them, and be able to carry his share of the property
with him; and so he went on, pursuing his wretched,
uneasy, solitary ride, sometimes sauntering along at
a snail’s pace, and then again spurring the
poor brute, and endeavouring to bring his mind to
some settled plan. But, whenever he did so, the
idea of his sister’s death was the only one which
seemed to present either comfort or happiness.

He made up his mind, at last, to put a bold face on
the matter; to find out from Anty herself whether
there was any truth in the story; and, if there should
be,—­for he felt confident she would not
be able to deceive him,—­to frighten her
and the whole party of the Kellys out of what he considered
a damnable conspiracy to rob him of his father’s
property,

He got off his horse, and stalked into the house.
On inquiry, he found that Anty was in her own room.
He was sorry she was not out; for, to tell the truth,
he was rather anxious to put off the meeting, as he
did not feel himself quite up to the mark, and was
ashamed of seeming afraid of her. He went into
the stable, and abused the groom; into the kitchen,
and swore at the maid; and then into the garden.
It was a nasty, cold, February day, and he walked
up and down the damp muddy walks till he was too tired
and cold to walk longer, and then turned into the
parlour, and remained with his back to the fire, till
the man came in to lay the cloth, thinking on the
one subject that occupied all his mind—­occasionally
grinding his teeth, and heaping curses on his father
and sister, who, together, had inflicted such grievous,
such unexpected injuries upon him.